


Gaia

by MONANIK



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Hinata Shouyou, Elf Culture & Customs, Eventual Smut, Grief/Mourning, Hinata Shoyou is Whipped, M/M, Magical Realism, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Nature, Oblivious Kageyama Tobio, Pining Hinata Shouyou, Protective Kageyama Tobio, Second Year Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio, Self-Discovery, Sexuality Crisis, Top Kageyama Tobio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MONANIK/pseuds/MONANIK
Summary: In Greek mythology, Gaia (/ˈɡeɪə, ˈɡaɪə/; from Ancient Greek Γαῖα, a poetical form of Γῆ Gē, "land" or "earth").Gaia is the ancestral mother of all life.orThe one in which Tobio harbors a secret, and Shoyou's life becomes a constant state of crisis.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Gaia

**Author's Note:**

> Is this an excuse to push my OC lore onto Kagehina? Yes, yes it is.  
> Do I regret it? No, no I don't.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_There’s magic in our bones,_

_a north star in our soul that remembers our way home._

_There’s magic in our bones._

_There’s magic in all of this._

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Girls were such pretty people, he thought.

Their hair was soft and shiny, their lips plump and red, and where their skirts fluttered like silk curtains against smooth, soft skin was nothing short of fantasy. Shoyou often caught himself staring at the girls in his class. At their long, long legs and pretty, pink lips. At their delicate hands and beautiful, flowing hair. They smelled good, too. Always smelled of something flowery and summer-warm. Yachi carried that same charm, that same scent of summer and warm winds and flower fields in full bloom. She was pretty. Not the same type of pretty Kiyoko-san  was , but a pretty on her own. In their second year she’d found the club a new manager to take over after her. To everyone’s (quiet) disappointment it turned out to be a guy. A cute, shy guy with pretty, blonde curls, yeah, but a guy nonetheless. It wasn’t as exciting, because he wasn’t a girl. Girls were always exciting. How could they not be? They were beautiful, lean, so approachable. They smelled good and spoke softly and were everything one could desire in another human being. All of them were like that, Shoyou thought. 

So why, then, was he sitting on the gymnasium floor, blushing from tip to toe, as Tobio’s worried expression hovered just above his own. He was close, so close Shoyou could make out the little dot underneath his lower lip, and watch the sweat on his neck run down and into his collar. He was talking to him, Shoyou distantly noted, but between his injured knee and Tobio’s big, calloused hand cupping his face—sitting so close Shoyou could count the varying shades of blue in his irises—he couldn’t hear a word of what was being yelled to him.

Yelled, because Tobio never spoke softly, and the furious expression marring sharp, clay-cut features told him all he needed to know to understand that he was, in fact,  being reprimanded for something . 

Tobio was holding up his leg; thrown over one shoulder and hooked against his chest with the support of a strong, muscled arm.

“Hinata, you dumbass why the fuck are you just gawking at me?! Answer the question!” Tobio’s voice cut through, now properly furious. His neck was tinted red, which meant he was really, truly angry. 

“S-sorry, what did you say?”

“Do you have a fucking concussion?! I asked what happened!”

“O-oh…” he stammered, mentally winding back the tape from the last few seconds.

He had been landing from a  (wonderfully successful )  spike when he’d  stepped wrong, and as his ankle  had given in his knee, too, twisted the wrong way. The crack must have echoed through the entire gymnasium,  judging by their bewildered audience .

“We should get him to a hospital, it could be serious,” the coach said. Shoyou hadn’t noticed him before, but he was also crouching down next to Shoyou, looking worried as ever.

“I’m fine,” Shoyou uttered, and to his astonishment found that he actually was.

The shot of pain he’d felt that’d been so great it had thrown him off balance  and onto his ass was practically gone  with the wind . 

Tobio’s hand over his knee was warm, so warm, and the place where his skin met Shoyou’s red, knee-pad worn skin tingled pleasantly—but the pain was gone.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, “It doesn’t hurt.”

An almost comical silence settled over the gym. All heads turned towards where Tobio’s hand was lingering. He lifted it, hesitantly, to find that Shoyou’s knee was in fact fine. The bruising and swelling from moments prior was gone. Not a single bone seemed to be out of place, and Shoyou had stopped panting.

“Seriously, Hinata? You scared the crap out of us!” Tanaka reprimanded.

“False alarm?” Someone else muttered, presumably one of the freshmen. “Could have sworn I heard something crack…”

Tobio was scowling, staring daggers at Shoyou—his eyes flickering from his healed knee still resting against Tobio’s chest to Shoyou’s sheepish expression.

“It really did hurt though—” he tried, but was interrupted.

“I know,” Tobio said, and threw off Shoyou’s leg with a little more force than necessary. “You’re still going to the infirmary,” he added and hoisted him up by his elbow so aggressively he practically threw him across half the court. Shoyou blinked as his cheeks flared once again. Tobio turned and told coach he was taking him to the infirmary.

They left the building in silence. 

Tobio was  sporting his  _thinking face,_ which meant whatever had happened in there had triggered him in some way. Two years later and Shoyou was still bad at figuring out exactly what it was  every time. 

Tobio would always be an enigma to him, it seemed.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_With golden string our universe was clothed in light._

_Pulling at the seams,_

_o_ _ur once barren world brims with life_.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

That practice evening became a stepping stone for something Shoyou couldn’t name. He couldn’t quite bring himself to see Tobio the same way, not now that he’d been so intimately exposed to him.

To a part of him he hadn’t know was there.

But when Shoyou looked again, and again, and again still, he found to his astonishment that Tobio had always been like that. Everything, every part of him, had always been just as ethereal as he’d been that evening.

Tobio was all limbs—tall and lean and yet held a width to his shoulders and a firmness to his muscles that Shoyou envied dearly. Well, at least so he thought, but judging by the way his mind had been derailing as of recent he was beginning to doubt it ever having been about envy.

Tobio was handsome. Painfully so. And Shoyou didn’t know what to do with that information.

Suddenly, it was as if a whole new world had opened up for him. Whenever he stood close to the setter he would catch a whiff of his deodorant, of perfume or detergent or whatever else lingered in the seams of his clothing. His skin, too, had a distinct scent to it. A scent he couldn’t quite name, because if the prospect of standing close to Tobio clothed and casual had been daunting the idea of getting close enough to his naked skin to smell him was downright suicidal.

Tobio was a private person, he knew. This was nothing new. Shoyou knew from their first year that Tobio wasn’t a very mushy-mushy, affectionate person. Touch wasn’t something he was too keen on, so the team quickly learned to stay out of his zone. Well, they tried to. Some of them were better at it than others. Shoyou, for one, always found himself with his head on Tobio’s shoulder, snoozing away during their hours-long rides to games and practice matches and tournaments. It was simply too comforting to resist. Tobio was big, so big, and despite the lines between his eyebrows he was surprisingly warm, welcoming, in a non-verbal way. It was like he walked in the confides of a body made to be touched, and yet despised touch himself.

Either Shoyou had special privileges he wasn’t aware of, or Tobio wasn’t as stingy as he pretended to be. Somehow he got the feeling it was the former.

So it came as a surprise to him, then, to find the new freshmen on the team clinging onto _his_ setter like it was the most natural thing in the world. Especially that rookie setter that had _explicitly_ joined to be coached by Tobio, as he’d proudly proclaimed on his enrollment in the club. Tobio had taken a liking to him straight away—as he always did whenever confronted with a fellow setter—and had taken it upon himself to teach the kid everything he knew. Which turned out to be a lot.

Shoyou confronted him one of those day, once he’d had enough of the constant groping of their resident _ikemen._

“ _You do realize you won’t be a starter as long as Kageyama’s here, right?”_ he’d asked, uncharacteristically mean, he admitted.

The other had laughed, to his surprise. _“If you think that’s why I’m here I’ve fooled you right,”_ he retorted.

Shoyou never managed to figure out what that meant. That is, until he started noticing Tobio, and in turn, his duckling. The rookie never left his side—was practically glued to him—and Tobio _allowed_ it. He didn’t push him away, didn’t snarl or yell like he would with Shoyou, and he definitely didn’t tell him to back off whenever the guy pushed curious paws against his chest teasingly, humorously, laughing at something Tobio had said.

Shoyou felt sick just looking at them. They were standing in the locker room, changing after a particularly grueling practice, when the two setters had started what Shoyou could only describe as aggressively courting. One sided it may have been, but explicit nonetheless to everyone except Tobio.

Shoyou watched him smile back, watched those pink lips stretch into a gentle, hesitant smile. All directed towards the pushy thing blinking at him like he’d placed the stars in the sky. Shoyou repressed the need to gag as he watched the guy rub a grabby hand up and down Tobio’s naked arm. _God, he wanted to punch him so bad._

Because, really, who was he to push into Tobio’s sacred private sphere like that without question or remorse, without grace or care?

He  didn’t think as he watche d Tobio’s smile—the one he was so insecure about—stretch wider, flaunting perfect white teeth;  didn’t think as he  took the scissors from his bag, and  sliced a long, red line through the middle of his palm. It  burned , and the blood trickling out of the open wound  was warm. It  dripped onto the floor. The sound  was deafening in the silence that  followed . 

“Wh—what on Earth—“Tobio stammered, pushing away the confused rookie— _leech—_ as he made his way to Shoyou. He grabbed his wrist, strong fingers wrapping all the way around it and tugging it towards Tobio’s wide, incredulous eyes. 

Shoyou could almost feel the power thrumming through those hands. Those big, warm, wonderful hands that did so many great things on court, that were like a kiss to his skin whenever it—

_Wait what?_

“What on Earth did you do?!” Tobio half-shouted but his eyes darted away and towards the outstretched roll of bandages held out by Nishinoya. He grabbed it and hastily began to wrap the material around Shoyou’s wound, rough and hurried in his movements. Where his hand was wrapped around Shoyou’s wrist he could feel his own pulse starkly because of the strength with which Tobio was holding onto him, presumably to slow the bleeding. He hadn’t realized he’d cut so deep.

“Caught it on something sharp in the locker… stray piece of metal maybe,” he mumbled, too preoccupied with the worry laced in Tobio’s features. It felt good, to have his attention on him, and yet he couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t comprehend what exactly was happening to him. 

“I’m taking him to the infirmary,” Tobio said to the room, ignoring Shoyou as he finished the knot and then quickly grabbed his things—shoving them unceremoniously into his bag and hauling it over his shoulder. He stopped, then added, “Again.” 

The others said their affirmatives, reassuring Tobio that they would lock up after they left. Tobio nodded and grabbed Shoyou’s wrist on his way out. 

They half-ran towards the infirmary, mostly because one of Tobio’s strides was two of Shoyou’s. So perhaps the correction would be that  _Shoyou_ was running, Tobio was just walking briskly. Thundering with poorly concealed rage.  Above them, as if on cue, the sky rumble d , and a light drizzle prickle d Shoyou’s cheeks. He look ed back down at Tobio’s back and the white T-shirt he  was wearing. Dark gray spots  began to form over his shoulders where the rain  was slowly wetting his shirt. 

He  wanted to reach out, to trace those spots with the tips of his finger, but he  held back, and instead humorously  remarked how the weather  matched Tobio’s mood perfectly.

He  didn’t think more of it as they re-enter the school, now mostly empty part for the last few club members leaving for the day. Kids  were grumbling about the weather, complaining about their lack of umbrellas, as Tobio and Shoyou  dashed by them  in a rush into the infirmary. The nurse  wasn’t there, but judging by the fact that the door  was open and the room well lit they assumed she was around somewhere, closing for the day. 

Tobio  ignored her absence and instead  motioned for Shoyou to sit down while he rummage d through the cupboards and kits around him for a clean gauge and disinfectant. Shoyou watche d him work in the small infirmary. He always thought Tobio looked comical in any normal-person sized places, especially standing next to his very average-sized friends, but rather than infuriate him the sight made him giggle.

Tobio turned, tools in hand as he sat himself in front of Shoyou, and glared questioningly at him. “What’s so funny, dumbass,” he asked, but it sounded more like a statement as he got to work, not caring for Shoyou’s response. 

He gave him one anyway. “You’re like a gorilla out of his cage anywhere that’s not a volleyball court,” he joked, watching as Tobio’s hands meticulously and carefully arranged the things on the table next to him. It always surprised Shoyou how good he was at all that stuff. Stuff about the body and all that. 

“ _I’m_ a gorilla? At least I’m not a stupid klutz. How the hell you manage every fucking time is beyond me,” he grunted.

Shoyou silently celebrated the lack of aggression, or offense, to the fact that Shoyou had openly—albeit affectionately—insulted him.

“It’s just, you’re so big and out of place everywhere. You do realize both things _and_ people are breakable, right? I mean the way you just shoved poor Sato-kun into the lockers—“

“Your wound is gone.”

Shoyou paused and looked down to where his hand lay upside down in Tobio’s large palm. True to his words, Shoyou’s wound was gone. In its place was a faint, pink scar. Fading  as quickly as if he’d had it for the past few weeks . As if nothing had happened. Had he imagined it? No, he couldn’t have had. Tobio had been worried enough to drag him to the infirmary after all. 

“It’s… gone…” he said, staring at his open hand. 

Had he developed  super healing abilities? Was this the beginning of his hero arc? Would he grow wings next?

“I swear there was—“

“I know, I saw the blood,” Tobio interrupted him, again. 

Perhaps it wasn’t Shoyou who was entering his hero arc.

A beat of silence, then Shoyou spoke.

“You really do have the hands of God—“

“Oh my God, shut up.” 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_I hate it when storm clouds roll in, heralded by dazzling claps of thunder and lightning that boast an ocean of tears. This majestic performance of bad temper manages to overshadow my pathetic attempts at pouting. No one broods like mother nature, hence she steals all the attention I was sulking after._

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

He’d brushed it off in the infirmary, not feeling confident enough in his hypothesis to voice his thoughts to Tobio, but the wound on his hand didn’t leave his mind for the rest of the week. He constantly caught himself staring at it. Or rather, at the lack of it. The skin where he’d _deliberately_ sliced himself open was not only fully healed but even the pink scar was gone entirely.

He didn’t understand. There was no logical explanation for a wound like that to heal that quickly. Had it taken it a day or two he might have let it pass, but in a few minutes? Not even hours? It seemed crazy, and yet where the booming drop of blood had landed on the locker room floor a smudge remained. His scissors, too, had drying blood on them.

He knew there was more to it, and whenever he tried to approach Tobio about it he got brushed off gruffly, or told to get back to his receives. Whatever it was, Tobio wasn’t keen on talking about it, and after having tested his theory on himself by giving himself a similar cut on his leg—only for it to heal as a wound normally would—he’d come to the conclusion that the healing had something to do with Tobio. As crazy as that sounded he had no other explanation, and his best friend’s silence wasn’t exactly helping his case.

But he let it go in favor of grumbling over another Tobio-related issue— and said issues seemed to have been growing exponentially since that evening when he’d twisted his knee. Namely, Tobio was constantly surrounded by someone or something. It wasn’t always that they were interacting with him, or were even being noticed by him, but around Tobio was the constant buzz of liveliness. 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_ D ear wilderness, be at your best. _

_ His armor is thin as the fabric of his dress. _

_ I know the rules: the weaker trees bend, _

_ but make him immune when your tempter storms in. _

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

They were sitting on the roof in their regular spot, eating their lunch, legs stretched out side by side in the warm sunlight, when Shoyou noticed Tobio irritatingly swatting at something repeatedly out of the corner of his eye. It was a mindless gesture, a minor annoyance on Tobio’s part—like a fly not leaving ones food—but what surprised Shoyou was that it was a beautiful, bright blue butterfly. It’s wings were so astonishingly blue that it made him stop and turn fully towards his grumpy friend who didn’t seem to care about their pretty visitor. Eventually, Tobio gave up his flailing, and the moment he did the beautiful thing settled on his hair—right on top of a stray, black strand sticking up from his forehead. It fluttered gently in the soft wind, and the picture it painted, the contrast to Tobio’s pitch black hair, was absolutely adorable. He looked so soft, so welcoming, and he smelled warm, like the blistering sun above them. Toasty and comfortable.

Shoyou’s eyelids suddenly felt heavy, and he only absently noted himself tipping towards a warm, clothed shoulder. Tobio stiffened for a second, but relaxed soon after, and as Shoyou dozed off he couldn’t help but smile, secretly, to himself. 

Maybe Tobio didn’t mind his presence at all.

When he woke up, it was to the glare of the sun having move d enough to be right in his face. He stirred, suddenly worried they’d skipped class and upon checking his phone got it confirmed that they had, indeed, skipped a whole lot of classes.

He gasped, “Kageyama! Why didn’t you wake me up!?” he yelled, turning to glare daggers at his friend, whose expression didn’t so much as flinch at his accusation.

Tobio shrugged, “It’s like when a cat falls asleep on you.”

Shoyou gawked at him, face and neck unbearably hot.

_ Did Tobio just liken him to an animal? _

“I can’t—“

“Besides, you looked tired all throughout morning practice. I thought maybe you hadn’t gotten enough sleep.” Tobio looked down, then, and Shoyou distantly noted that his face and arms were a little darker than before. “Can’t have you collapsing or injuring yourself again,” he said, “You’re especially good at that.”

“You’re an idiot,” he retorted, not knowing how to react to this sudden display of doting, of familiarity, from his normally so distant partner.

Tobio frowned, “I learn ed from the best,” he growled.

They sat there, baring fangs at  each other , for well over a minute, until Shoyou gave up, sighed, and flopped down on his back. 

“What was the point of even going to school…” he breathed, eyes glued to the blue skies above, “Wanna come over to my place?”

Tobio hummed. 

“Okay,” he said.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_ I guess space and time takes violent things, angry things, _

_ and makes them kind. _

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

They spend the rest of the day peppering in Shoyou’s backyard. Practice had been canceled—something about renovations going on in the gym—and the wonder due weren’t exactly known for sitting still. Two hours later and they were both properly exhausted, sticky with sweat, when Shoyou offered they wash off and cool down inside. Tobio had agreed, and now Shoyou was faced with the very harsh reality that Kageyama Tobio was undressing, rather uncaring, right before his eyes.

Shoyou had just walked in to give him some towels and the change of clothes he’d left at Shoyou’s place after one too many sleepovers in which he’d been forced into Shoyou’s father’s old clothes, when he’d walked right in to the sight of Tobio’s bare back.

He squawked, “Gah! W-what are you doing? I said I would bring you towels!” he squealed.

Tobio raised a brow at his reaction. “Huh? It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before. Besides, we’re both guys aren’t we? I’ve got nothing you don’t have,” he remarked, looking at Shoyou as if he’d been dropped one too many times as a baby, standing there, naked. Unbothered.

Shoyou blinked, trying to will the heat out of his face but failing. “Yeah but this is different.”

“How exactly?”

“It just is!”

Tobio swung both arms out in a _what the fuck_ gesture, which meant whatever modesty had been preserved by the towel in his hands in front of him was thrown out the window. Shoyou could practically hear his own brain breaking apart at the sight of Tobio, in all his glory, and with junior sorta just _right there._ Darker than the rest of him, pink at the tip, and crowned by a trail of trimmed, black hair that crawled up to his navel.

“Hello? Earth to dumbass?” Tobio waved a hand in front of his face, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “What’s gotten into you? Are you sick? You’re beet red.”

“I-I’m fine!” he yelled, and slammed the door shut, and practically sprinted to his room. There, he crumbled against his door, breathing as uneven as the erratic beating of his poor, abused heart.

He’d never gotten such a good look at Tobio’s dick before, and he wasn’t sure why that had made him react so strongly. It was like Tobio said: not a big deal. They’d been naked before many times. They’d clung to each other, shoving and hitting, in public baths, as naked as the day they were born, and yet nothing could have prepared him for the way his pants strained awkwardly against his very obvious erection.

He couldn’t believe it, and yet there his dick was. Standing at full attention. Tenting his shorts and spreading a wet patch in the fabric over his tip.

_Did he… did he like Tobio?_

No, it couldn’t be. This was a completely normal reaction to having been reminded of sex, right, even if it had been in a very roundabout, non-explicit way. Right? Surely. That was it.

There was nothing else to it, he tried convincing himself as he allowed curious hands to tickle up his naked thighs and in under the waistband of his shorts.

He’d just blow some steam off while Tobio was in the shower. No big deal. It didn’t mean anything.

He willed his eyes to find the pop-idol poster on his bedroom wall. The one with the pretty girl with the big boobs and soft thighs. Willed his mind to bring up pictures of Yachi, of the girls in his class, of the girl’s tennis captain, but try as he might the image of one big, handsome setter kept invading his thoughts over and over again.

The fact that he could hear the running of a shower didn’t help. All his mind would conjure up were images of Tobio, standing under the stream of hot water, with his long, muscled limbs and silly T-shirt tan.

He gasped as his hand worked, up and down, in slow, firm motions. He wondered if Tobio ever jerked off. He must, right? He was human, after all, and a boy at that. Did he have someone he thought about when he did it, or was he the type to pull up a generic porn site? Did he have anyone he liked? Had he ever done something with someone else before?

If Shoyou asked, would he wrap that big, calloused hand around him? Would he be repulsed?

“T-Tobio…”

The thought was enough to send his mind spiraling to fantasies of dark, pink lips along his pulse. Of big, warm hands trailing up his hips and over his spine. Maybe even wrapping firmly around his neck. Restricting his airways—

He came with a muffled gasp right onto his stomach and, consequently, his shirt.

It was then that the reality of what he’d done fully hit him. He’d jerked off to his best friend. A guy, at that.

Shame washed over him in an instant, and he hauled himself up from his position on the floor to wipe off the cum on his chest with his sullied shirt. He pulled on a fresh, new one hastily. He would have to remember to wash his clothes on his own tomorrow, lest his mother finds out about his… mishap.

When his door opened in a wide swing Shoyou’s soul nearly left his body. He turned, quickly, to nervously face his confused mother.

“M-mom!”

“Shoyou? Are you okay?”

“Yup! Just dandy! Did you need something?” he asked, gritting his teeth to keep his expression from falling. His mother took the bait.

_That,_ or she didn’t have the energy to decipher her son’s strangeness.

“Will you and Tobio come help me out in the garden? My order of Peonies came and it would be wonderful if you guys could help me out with them. I’ll treat you to something tasty in payment.”

His mother had recently taken on the hobby of gardening after having complained about their barren garden for so long. It wasn’t big or luxurious, but it was big enough to warrant the need for some color, according to his mother.

“Sure, mom.”

“Thank you, my love,” she said, and picket up an empty cup from his nightstand as she left.

Shoyou sighed into the emptiness.

The water in the bathroom stopped running.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_Make my messes matter, make this chaos count._

_Let every little fracture in me shatter out loud._

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

“What were these called again?”

“P-Ponies…”

“ _Peonies!_ You’re hopeless!” his mother corrected, passing them by with an armful full of flowerpots.

“What did you say was our reward again?” he called after her.

“Curry!” she yelled from inside. Shoyou and Tobio shared a grin.

They spent the remainder of whatever sunlight was left in the garden, helping Shoyou’s mother. After a while they’d turned their attention on the water hose and one thing led to another. By the end of it they were both panting and wet to the bone. Laughing, shoving at each other, jokingly comparing the other to bugs and worms they found in the earth.

Eventually Shoyou’s mother called them in, and before telling them to wash up reprimanded them for the state they were in.

“You’re both five, aren’t you!” she said, swatting at their backs with her hand towel as they passed. Tobio bowed deep in apology, but the grin on his face gave him away.

As they dried up Shoyou determinedly kept his gaze away from the translucency of Tobio’s white shirt. He’d sworn to himself never to dishonor his friend like that ever again. No matter how frustratingly attractive he was.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_At first I thought you were a constellation._

_I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation:_

_You’re as beautiful as endless,_

_you’re the universe I’m helpless in._

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

As the sky darkened outside, they all gathered around the Hinatas’ kitchen table, smelling of warm sunlight and earth. Shoyou couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself as much as he had today, and after successfully coercing Tobio into staying the night he could say with certainty that it would only get better from then on out.

It was warm in their little kitchen, and the curry his mom had made smelled amazing, but Shoyou’s happiness would be short lives.

Tobio’s phone vibrated sometime in the middle of dinner, and when he returned to the kitchen it was to announce that there’d been an emergency, and that he had to leave.

All with a sullen face.

He looked so pale, so vulnerable, but before Shoyou could ask what had happened Tobio had rushed out the door and into the late evening.

Later, as they were cleaning up their plates, the weather outside turned sour. In a minute heavy winds started blowing, and rain droplets the size of a palm splashed loudly against their windows. Shoyou’s mother worried about her peonies

Shoyou worried about Tobio.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

_I’m only honest when it rains._

_If I time it right, the thunder breaks when I open my mouth._

_I want to tell you but I don’t know how._

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

– **Hinata, 19:43**

_u ok?_

_what happened?_

_Tobio??_

– **Kageyama, 23:36**

_Mom died._

– **Kageyama, 23:57**

_Sorry._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know what you think
> 
> xoxo


End file.
